


Headaches

by silvergryphon



Series: Black and Gold Verse [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-04
Updated: 2017-05-04
Packaged: 2018-10-28 03:53:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10823190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silvergryphon/pseuds/silvergryphon
Summary: Coruscant is a busy, busy planet. Billions of inhabitants, all radiating thoughts, feelings, fears. It's almost too much for Padawan Naroko Chiston, Healer and Empath, to bear.





	Headaches

**Author's Note:**

> Another piece for the Black and Gold Verse! This one fits in before the events of Over The Years.

_There is no emotion. There is peace._

                Naroko’s eyes slitted open as she mentally recited that part of the Jedi Code. It seemed a flawed premise, taken literally. There was emotion. She knew there was emotion. Every sentient being in her sensing range shouted their emotions straight into her head, all day every day.

                The perils of being an Empath on Coruscant.

                She sat cross-legged on a cushioned stool in the rooms she shared with her Master. Rinar, long birdlike legs folded beneath her and spiked tail curled neatly around her feet, was settled just as comfortably on her own cushion, amber eyes closed in her own meditation. The saurian Krriishk looked entirely at peace.

                Naroko felt unsettled. She had another headache. They weren’t as bad as the headaches she got when she left the Temple, but lately even here she couldn’t avoid developing a throbbing ache behind her eyes that was only worsened by tense neck and shoulder muscles.

                _I’m supposed to be a healer. And I can’t even prevent headaches. Some healer._

                She knew she was being hard on herself. At fourteen, she had been Master Rinar’s apprentice for a little over three years and had spent almost all of that time in intense study. Her talents lay in healing and sensing the emotions of other beings, though she worked hard to be at least competent in all the other standard Jedi abilities.

                Except Mind Tricks. She just had no knack for those, no matter how hard she tried or how receptive her subject.

                That area of weakness aside, she was a _strong_ healer. Everyone who’d evaluated her agreed on that point.

                _So why can’t I stop these cursed headaches?_

                Rinar’s eyes slid open, and she turned her head slightly to peer at her student with one. Krriishk did not have particularly spectacular binocular vision at close range, and usually had to study things through one eye or the other in order to see nearby objects clearly.  “You are troubled, Padawan,” she said in her lilting, flute-like voice.

                Naroko shifted out of her cross-legged posture to draw her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. “It’s nothing important, Master,” she said.

                Rinar chuffed and just continued to watch her. “Perhaps I should be the judge of that,” she suggested. As so often happened, her words wandered from Basic to her own language, which comprised of a striking array of hoots, trills, chirps, and similar sounds, and back to Basic. Naroko liked listening to Rinar speak her own tongue and had put in a tremendous effort to learn it, just so she could understand her musical language.

                “It’s just a headache,” she said, resting her chin on her knees again. She could feel Rinar’s measuring regard as an almost physical pressure on her skin, sense her concern. She wasn’t worried- yet- but Naroko got the impression that Rinar might become worried if she kept evading.

                “Another one?”

                She nodded.

                “That is the third this week, is it not?”

                “Fourth.”

                Rinar blinked, raising her head on her curved, serpentine neck in momentary surprise. “It is the fourth day of the week, Padawan,” she said. Now real concern edged its way into her voice. “They are coming every day now?”

                Naroko stared at her toes. “Yes Master,” she replied. “I’ve been trying the muscle-relaxing exercises, the healing trances, pressure points, everything I can think of. Painkillers help, for a time, but I don’t like taking too many of those. And they won’t _go away_.”

                There was a long moment of silence. At last Rinar unfolded herself and crossed the distance between them in two strides. She rested her hands on Naroko’s shoulders, and the girl shuddered. The concern radiating from her Master was almost overwhelming now they were in physical contact, making her head start to throb in time with her heartbeat. Physical contact always made the headaches worse, made emotions come through all the clearer. She’d been trying to avoid contact as a result.

                A flash of brown and warm grey and russet is Rinar's head, dropping down in front of her face, one golden eye peering into her own. Then she felt a gentle touch in her mind, soothing and familiar but _too close too much_ all the same.

                "Touch makes it worse?" Rinar asked softly. Naroko could only nod, prompting a thoughtful trill from her teacher.  "What are you feeling?"

                " _Everything_ ," Naroko whispered, closing her eyes. For weeks she'd been trying to keep things at bay, keep from sensing everything until her nerves were rubbed raw. "If I go outside the Temple, it's worse. Everything everyone I can sense feels, I feel. My shields don't feel like they keep anything out anymore."

                Rinar cocked her head to one side, drawing brief attention to the bony russet crest that ran back along her skull and the scarred chip about halfway along it. Then she hooted. Naroko felt a sudden mournful sense from her, a feeling of abashed embarrassment. "Oh, child," she said softly, drawing her hands back. The pressure behind Naroko's eyes immediately eased, just a bit. "I see what the problem is."

                Naroko looked up at her, biting her lip. "You do? What is it? Can I fix it?"

                "Your empathic skills are developing," Rinar explained. "More quickly than I believed they would. They are outpacing the ability of your basic shields to shield out the feelings of those around you."

                Just knowing the problem sent a wash of relief over her. She'd been afraid with not knowing, trying hard to keep things out and not let her own feelings spill out everywhere. She'd been luckier on that second account, being better at receiving things than sending them at the moment. But it was still hard, even here in the Temple, where minds were usually shielded and generally peaceful.

                "Oh," she said at last. Now that she knew, the healer part of her, the part that never wanted to sit aside and let a problem fester, was coming to the fore. She was suddenly itching to do something about the problem, and hopefully never have to deal with these horrid headaches again. "What do I do about it?"

                By way of answer, Rinar took her hands, gently touching her thoughts and drawing her mind _in_. Her Master's presence was steadying, comforting, and right now she was shielding against projecting any emotions so as not to irritate Naroko's raw senses. It felt rather like laying a cool pack against burned flesh, soothing simply because it didn't aggravate the problem. Naroko welcomed her Master's presence, wanting to do nothing more than wrap herself up in it until all the ache and irritation had gone away.

                Rinar let her bask for a moment, then nudged her gently with a tiny projection of reassurance. It was time to get to work.

                _Build your foundations like so, and lay them like so_ , her Master's voice whispered in her mind. Or at least, that was the sense of it. With Rinar, these mental discussions came in the form of pictures and feelings rather than true words. Rinar did not think in words most of the time, not like humans did. Her thoughts were layered in sensory information, sight and sound and scents, in ranges beyond those Naroko was even physically capable of comprehending.

                She listened closely, trying to grasp as much meaning from her teacher's instruction as she could, and slowly began building the shields Rinar was showing her how to craft.

                Bit by bit she built them up, forming sturdy walls between her and- and everyone else. These were not barriers as she would have expected them. No, these shields were permeable, like the walls of a living cell, allowing some things to pass in and some to pass out.

                _So you do not blind yourself to the galaxy around you_.

                That made sense, in a way. A truly impermeable barrier would have cut her off from the Force entirely, leaving her blind and deaf. A Jedi could not afford to do that.

                "Why was I not taught these before?" Naroko asked once the shields were raised and in place, polarized crystalline spheres around her mind and heart that filtered out the worst of the input she was receiving.

                Rinar cocked her head to one side, nictitating membrane swishing over her eye in a not-true blink. "They are difficult shields to master," she explained. "They are difficult to ground properly, more difficult still to keep permanently erected. And few Jedi are sensitive enough to emotions to require them. Most Jedi must actively strive to open up and feel the emotions of others, not the reverse."

                She could see what Rinar meant about them being difficult to hold permanently. She'd had them up for five minutes and already noticed the effort.

                She bit her lip. What if she couldn't hold them? What would happen when they eroded and she was left exposed once more? The shields she'd erected seemed slender protection against the onslaught of emotions and sensations that had been plaguing her, slenderer still now she sensed how soon they would probably crumble.

_No. I must not be afraid. Fear will only erode them faster._

                Rinar was still looking at her intently. "You require time and practice," she said at last. The saurian Jedi uncurled herself from her cushion. "And those are best achieved away from Coruscant and all its people. You pack your things, Padawan. I will find us an assignment someplace quieter."

                "Quieter?" she repeated, frowning. "Like where?"

                "The Outer Rim, perhaps." Another tilt of that crested, almost avian head, this time in the other direction. "Or Mid-Rim. Somewhere away from crowded areas, that perhaps do not receive Jedi aid very often."

                Naroko thought about this. The more she thought about it, the better she liked the idea. Right now, the quiet solitude of deep space alone sounded immensely appealing. She nodded. "I'll be ready to go as soon as we have orders, Master," she promised. "Before, even."

**Author's Note:**

> Empathy's a useful ability... when you're not getting assaulted on all sides by the emotions of every person in your range. Whoops.


End file.
